


1000 miles to paradise

by ronsparkyspeirs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronsparkyspeirs/pseuds/ronsparkyspeirs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll take the life of crime, all to make you mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1000 miles to paradise

**Author's Note:**

> someone sent me this prompt on tumblr a long ass time ago, so long that i don't fully remember what it was except that it was something of a criminal/thief/partners in crime au.

The store is empty, not counting the gum chomping redhead at the register. She grabs the essential food groups, beef jerky, potato chips, slushies, cookies, and a bag of chocolates; shaking her head as she piles the items on the counter, at this rate she’ll be as big as a house by the time they reach Mexico. The woman doesn’t argue as she asks for a carton of Marlboro reds. No one ever argues with her.

 

Ever since they fled Georgia she’d tried making herself look older, kohl rimmed eyes and dark red lipstick, tight clothes and heavy combat boots; but Daryl had scoffed and said she still looked like a damn teenager. A really pretty teenager he’d said when she glared at him in return, then he muttered something about looking like fucking jailbait. Maybe it’s because she looks younger than she is, or maybe it’s because they saw the guy in the truck she was in, or maybe it’s just because they don’t care. Let the bitch get cancer, they think.

 

She always thinks she know everything, he never gets mad at her for that, just stays silent until she gives up. After paying, she find him in the drivers seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes staring off at the desert, looking so damn cool it makes her jealous. He changed the station, but she doesn’t change it back, she just sits there with her bag of chocolates and stares out the window. They never touch in public, let everyone think he‘s a friend, a relative, her pimp, or whatever they think when they see them. She doesn’t give a damn, no one needs to know that they hold each other at night, or that Daryl sneaks kisses when he thinks no ones looking.

 

She met him at a run down bar one night when she was playing _bad girl_ , he chained smoke the entire time and then picked a fight with a bunch of bikers. She wonders what her mom would think of him had she still been alive, probably wouldn’t approve at first; probably would have looked at that scowl and warned him off her youngest.

 

But Beth thought he was amazing. There was this raw energy to him, so unlike all of the boys she’d met in her seventeen years, so beautiful and powerful. So when Merle dragged Daryl to a drug run gone bad and the cops were sent out to look for the Dixon brothers, Beth packed up her little backpack and climbed aboard his pickup and told him to drive to Mexico. He’d thought she was out her damn mind and then Beth had giggled and told him she loved him and that was that. She smiles when she thinks of beaches and the Mexican sun, he’ll say he hates it but will still take her down to the shore every day.   

 

He sees the look on her face and changes the station back to her own. She grins, taking a Johnny Cash tape out the glove box, popping it in she leans over and kisses his jaw. His eyes look down on her, he flicks the cigarette out the window and pulls her close. His hand wrapped around her shoulder, they speed off into the horizon, the old Ford leaving nothing but dust and useless memories in its path.

 

 


End file.
